Within the Teacher's Lounge
by Bluemoon613
Summary: Behind the scenes look at Hogwarts professors. This was a little experiment in writing. All the professors were separated randomly into each chapter. Rated just in case.
1. Filched

I own nothing but copies of the books.

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><p>True, Sibyll Trelawney rarely visited the staff room, but she was fairly certain it wasn't usually in such a state of disarray.<p>

Chairs were upturned, cabinets were wide open, and the table managed to get itself wedged into the high right corner. Still more objects were getting thrown about from the corner blocked by the mountain of cloaks that had escaped from the wardrobe.

She watched a spare cauldron fly through Prof. Binns and decided to divine some greater information. "What happened here, Professor? My inner eye forewarned me that I'd come across a disaster today, but I thought it was another premonition of that poor Potter boy. Such an unlucky young man," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Amazed that a question was put to him, Prof. Binns paused before replying, "Someone has disturbed the contents of the food cupboard."

Trelawny nodded her head knowingly, "I thought as much; Argus will not be happy to clean up this mess. Such anger I see from him…"

Binns, not expecting to be addressed once more, stuttered out, "But Filch is the one who's doing it!" And almost on cue, Mrs. Norris leapt onto a nearby chair, staring accusingly at Sibyll.

"When I find out who made off with my food I'll personally see to their sacking immediately!" Filch shouted before stamping out from behind the cloak mountain. Almost matching Mrs. Norris's eyes, he gave Trelawny a dirty look before moving on to the other side of the room.

"My favorite! A deviled egg and pickle sandwich! Couldn't have just run off! Someone must have hid it! I can smell it!" Filch raged on, sniffing the air, "But I can't follow it! They're waiting, waiting to watch me give up before they eat it themselves!"

"I could've seen this coming, Argus," Trelawny said shaking her head sadly, "You must be a Scorpio, with the current positions of Saturn and Uranus, you'll lose many possessions. I'm sorry."

"I didn't lose it! Someone TOOK it!" Filch snarled, "And when I find out who…"

"Is there anyone who'd wish you trouble, Argus?" Trelawny questioned, "If you wish it, I'll read your palm to see if someone has currently wronged you."

Filch stopped for a minute to consider. He'd never hear the end of it if he was seen indulging Sibyll. But if it helped at all…

"Fine then," He agreed grudgingly.

Eagerly, Sibyll reached for his hand. She made a big to do with waving her shawls before taking it and settling down on the nearest right side up table. Filch flinched and wondered if it was too late to change his mind.

Prof. Binns floated by the fire place, bored with the proceedings.

"Hmmmm…yes…hmmmm…," Trelawny hummed with her eyes closed, moving her fingers over the wrinkled palm.

Filch prayed no one would enter the staff room.

"Argus, do you have an enemy?" Trelawny asked, still focusing on the palm and her inner eye.

"An enemy?" Filch choked out, not sure to take this seriously.

"Someone who wishes you nothing but trouble? Someone who acts against you constantly?" Trelawny pushed on, eyes open and expectant.

"Well, there's those Weasley twins," he replied thoughtfully, "And Peeves," now sneering like he said a cuss word.

"I'm seeing a dark figure. Has a small shape…very old…and a hat, I believe," Trelawny said, again donning her mystic demeanor.

"THAT'S PEEVES!" Filch yelled, "When I get my hands on him!"

Filch turned quickly, yanking his hand away, and raced for the staff room door with Mrs. Norris not far behind. Immersed in his new hunt, he nearly knocked over the Ancient Runes professor who had then made the mistake of trying to enter.

"Bathsheba, are you unhurt? A Taurus like you needs to be careful during this moon cycle," Trelawny began, "Perhaps you should come up to my office for a reading."

"As much as I'd love to Sibyll," Bathsheba Babbling said, adjusting her large hat over her white hair, "I'm afraid these old bones wouldn't be able to make it up that ladder of yours."

Inspired by her recent success with Filch, Trelawny tried again, "Why, I could do it down here then! True, this room risks clouding my inner eye, but a good seer is not bound by the constraints of location and for you it would be a pleasure.

"No no, that's quite alright," Bathsheba said quickly, "Anyway Sibyll, don't you have a class soon? It's nearly 1:00 and I'm certain you have fourth year divination."

Checking the large clock that remained untouched by Filch, Trelawny responded, "Why yes, you are correct. My, does time fly when one busies oneself with matters of the present. I'm afraid your reading must be delayed then. Goodbye, Bathsheba." And with that, Trelawny hurried out of the staff room.

Satisfied that she was the only one who remained besides Binns, Prof. Babbling moved towards the fireplace. Drawing herself to her full height, she reached for the potted plant that survived Filch's scouring. Pointing her wand at the dirt, she whispered, "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Underneath the dirt was a small brown bag, which she took out and replaced with the floating dirt. She returned the pot to its home and made herself comfortable among the disorder.

Smiling to herself, she cast aside the brown bag plainly marked "Filch" in black ink and enjoyed her prize.


	2. A Holiday

Rolanda Hooch shuffled herself into the staff room, closing the door with a snap and collapsing into the nearest armchair with a loud tired sigh.

Not even looking up from her bandage-making, Madam Pomfrey asked, "Rough batch of first years again, Rolanda?"

"You have no idea," Rolanda replied rubbing her temples, "Each year they get rowdier and rowdier."

Madam Pince sniffed disapprovingly, "They're all Quidditch crazy, the lot of them!"

"Well, who can blame them Irma? It's Quidditch!" Rolanda smiled as she spoke, "The great wizarding pastime! They're so happy to finally learn to fly! I complain, but if they're weren't so exited I'd be worried."

"That's very well for you, Rolanda, but I can't tell you how many kids come into the hospital wing because of some accident out there," Poppy shook her head, "All the potions and transfiguring accidents are enough to keep me in a job; Quidditch just makes too much."

Irma and Poppy continued to rave about how Quidditch was ruining the bodies and minds of young students everywhere, how removing it from the school would eliminate any and all problems, and how they'd be able to convince Dumbledore to really listen to them this time. Rolanda just sighed and kept out of it until they ran out of steam. She liked Poppy and Irma well enough, but they never took time to have any fun.

_Minerva must be rubbing off on them_ she chuckled to herself.

Finally the two squabblers paused to take a breath when Rolanda decided to change the tracks of the conversation.

"What do you two do during the summer with nothing to complain about?" she said with a wry grin.

"There's no need to be so sardonic, Rolanda," Irma replied huffily, "If you have problem with us, the door is right there." Poppy only frowned in return.

_Can't take a joke_ "I didn't mean any offense," Rolanda said hastily, "I just worry."

Poppy frown grew deeper. "Worry? Rolanda, what do you mean? There's nothing to worry about."

"I worry about you two. You never take time to relax or enjoy yourselves," the flying instructor spoke carefully, "I just care about your happiness."

"I am perfectly happy where I am, Rolanda," Irma said with feeling, "All I need is a quiet library and I'm content. Getting it quiet is the only barrier," now with a touch of annoyance.

"And you, Poppy?"

"I am happy! I love my job…though I suppose it would be nice to have a day or two go by without an emergency."

"See there? You're both so stressed," Rolanda got an idea, "All you two need is a nice holiday. Somewhere far away and relaxing to take your minds off work."

"It has been a while since I've been abroad," Poppy said thoughtfully.

"I haven't traveled since I went to Madrid in 1985," Irma said warming to the idea, "And it rained the whole time!"

"I'd love to see Greece in summer," Poppy gushed, "I hear the sea is lovely then."

"As long as I have a place to lay down and read, I don't care where we go," Irma said resolutely.

"Why not Greece then?" Rolanda suggested, "You go off to Greece for the summer, do some reading, some swimming, you'll come back whole new women."

"You mean, we'll come back new women," Irma said.

Rolanda looked confused.

"Rolanda, you can't expect us to fly off to Greece without you," Poppy said officially, "This was all your idea and you could use a holiday as much as we could. Your eyes are so baggy these days and you're developing a slouch. It'll be good for all of us."

Rolanda smiled stiffly. A vacation with Irma and Poppy. Her mind raced for an excuse, but gave up at the excited looks on her co-workers' faces.

"Sure, sounds great. Greece in July," she said, swallowing hard. Poppy smiled approvingly and started recommending sunscreen and other preventatives while Irma immediately began planning days one through five.

_It'll all be worth it. It'll all be worth it._ Rolanda thought desperately, keeping her mouth shut once again until they talked themselves out.


	3. Poker Face

Prof. McGonagall stared at what lay before her. Furrowing her brow, she debated what her next course of action should be.

"Come now Minerva, I don't have all night to wait on you prolonging the inevitable," Severus sneered from across the table.

"You mean when you lose third year in a row, Severus?" chirped up tiny Prof. Flitwick. To which Prof. Sprout allowed a slight chuckle at Severus' expense.

Pulling a look at her three companions, Minerva laid down her hand. "Not this round. I fold."

"Finally," muttered the sallow potions master as he tossed three more chips into the pot, with Filius and Pomona following suit.

It had always been a Hogwarts tradition for the four houses to compete, but only for the past 8 years had it grown to include this particular game between the four heads. Each year it was the same thing. Come January just before holidays ended, they would convene in the staff room, break out the chips, and play the game of gods.

Poker.

A game Pomona had introduced them to after one summer holiday. Minerva had originally been against the notion of gambling, but any chance to beat Severus, and by association Slytherin, at anything was too good to pass up. Snape thought likewise. Flitwick was such a good sport that he was up for anything if it promised a fun time. However, if both he and Pomona were honest, the real treat was watching Minerva and Severus glare at each other over the cards. Just that was always priceless entertainment, but it came in handy during this particular game.

Minerva's poker face was horrendous. Just a look at her screamed volumes about what kind of hand she held. Severus' was actually quite good, considering what a great occlumens he was, but it suffered in how little luck he had, which didn't help his temper and then affected his playing. It was a nice change of pace for the other two heads to see their usually so successful coworkers competing to not be the ultimate loser.

So it goes without saying that Filius and Pomona usually cleaned up.

But that wasn't the main goal. While the three losers treated the overall winner at the Three Broomsticks, the real mission was to avoid going bankrupt first. That person would have the displeasure of a certain chore no one desired.

"Royal straight! This round goes to me!" Pomona said as she happily raked in the current pot.

Severus pursed his lips and threw his measly two pair into the rest of the deck. Trying to avoid looking smug, Minerva collected the cards and dealt again. She'd learned long ago not to push it when she really had nothing. It's what saved her from the losing streak she had when they first started this tradition. Severus, however, still clung to the notion that perhaps his stone-cold expression would lead him to victory against Pomona and Filius' combined luck and talent.

From the look at their respective pots, it wasn't going to work this time. Pomona had taken a lead near the beginning with Filius not terribly far behind. Minerva actually had a decent pile in front of her while Snape was clinging to only 3 more chips, dead last.

Perhaps it was time to strike an alliance.

"Pomona…" he started.

"Yes Severus?" she asked, still basking in her current lead.

Choosing his words carefully, Snape continued, "The way things have been going…all of us playing against each other Have you ever considered the idea of changing our annual games to a more, shall we say, partner friendly atmosphere?"

"Whatever you're trying to do Severus, you can stop right now," Minerva warned as she dealt the last card to Filius.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Minerva," Severus replied, feigning innocence, "I just thought I'd bring up the advantages of joining together as opposed to forcing all four houses apart."

"A noble sentiment, Severus," Filius answered, not even gazing up from his hand, "A shame you don't actually mean it."

"But I do Filius. I'm shocked that you'd think me capable of trying to pull the wool over your eyes. I'm glad Pomona doesn't think so harshly of me, otherwise I'd have no friends among-"

"Severus, your words would seem much more heartfelt if you weren't last place right now," Pomona cut him off with a good-natured wink.

"There you are Severus, now put in or fold before the OWLS start up," said Minerva as she placed her own chip into the center.

With a scowl, Severus followed, his three chips dwindling now to two. However, his mood significantly changed when he saw just what kind of hand he had just been dealt.

A flush. Not a royal one, but it was a flush. A flush was all he needed to stay in the running.

"Well, Severus, are you in or will you stave off defeat for another hand or two?" Filius teased.

Not wanting to give away his delight, Severus held his tongue and placed his last two chips into the center.

"Hmmm…so you are betting your last two Severus? Have you decided to end your misery?"

"Just put in, Filius. Your arrogance might be your downfall." Snape acidly replied.

"No, not this time. I think I'll fold," Flitwick laid his hand facedown on the table.

"Pomona?" Severus questioned. His hand would be pointless if everyone else folded.

Seeming torn between feeling sorry and enjoying Severus' position, Pomona replied, "I'm sorry, Severus. I better stay out this hand."

"I'm still in, Severus," Minerva reminded him, smirking and placing two of her own in the middle.

"Beating you is no pleasure, Minerva. It's like watching a broom crash," Severus retorted scathingly.

"Then show your hand Severus! Don't keep us waiting!" Minerva spat in return.

"Fine," Severus replied.

He threw down his hand in triumph and began to gather up his winnings when Minerva started to laugh.

"And what is so funny about me winning this hand?" Snape asked silkily.

"There's nothing funny about you winning a hand, Severus. You losing the whole match, on the other hand, is hysterical," Minerva managed to get out before laying down her hand and dissolving into more laughter.

She had a flush. A royal one.

"Hoh hoh! Better luck next year Severus!" Flitwick piped up, joining Minerva in her mirth.

"Maybe we can start playing partners next year," Pomona said, consolingly.

_Which was absolutely no help for THIS year_ thought Snape as he rubbed his temples. He now found himself in a very unfavorable position, for the third year in a row. Not only did he have to endure Minerva's smug smile and fork out his share of the bill for Pomona at the Three Broomsticks, but he also had to do the least-enjoyed job of all the heads of house ever since the Founders first accepted students.

With a sigh, he set off to his office to plan the third years' Sex Ed lessons.


	4. April's Fool

***********BZZZZZZZZZZ**********

Smoke steamed from the now charred ends of Charity Burbage's hair, but the smile on her face only grew wider.

_This is wonderful_, she thought happily to herself, _a great treat for the class on April Fool's AND I get to try it out beforehand._

And try it out she would. The staff room was uncharacteristically empty for a Tuesday afternoon and the afternoon block of classes would be over in about a half hour. If she wanted to test it, now was the time. She set to wiring the closet doorknob.

Suddenly, the staff room door opened, making her jump.

She looked around while simultaneously covering the evidence of her schemes to see the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor watching her with interest.

"Quirenus! It's you!" she looked at her tools, "I know this looks strange…" she began.

"Are- are you wiring that doorknob, professor?" Quirenus stuttered out.

There was no way out of it. "Yes," she admitted, "I wanted to try a little trick out for my class. As a special April Fool's surprise." Charity then remembered something, "Unless you wanted to help me Quirenus?"

"He- help you, professor?"

"You used to teach Muggle Studies! Before I was hired!" Charity grinning brightly, "Two people who know what they're doing could get this ready in no time! What do you say?"

"I- I re-really don't think-"

"Let's get started!" and without hearing another objection Charity shoved a wire cutter into his hand and pulled him to the closet.

Quirenus, twitching terribly, did what he was told and the two muggle experts finished in about ten minutes.

"Alright, now just keep natural, Quirenus, don't get nervous on me now!" Charity watched as her companion struggle to maintain his composure. "On second thought, maybe nervous is acting natural for you."

Quirenus gave up on keeping calm and pretended to grade DADA papers.

Charaity engaged herself in tinkering with a stopwatch and waited eagerly.

They did not have to wait for long when large footsteps approached the staff room. Quirenus nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard the noise and Charity tried not to look too excited. She would have preferred someone with a temper like Pince or Filch, but Hagrid would appreciate the prank. And that was almost as good.

For indeed it was Hagrid, but he wasn't alone. As he ducked to enter, Professor Dumbledore followed right behind him. They both looked at the witch's charred hair, but said nothing of it. The muggle studies professor was always testing artifacts and burns were simply the status quo.

Thankful that they didn't press her for information, Charity greeted them, "Hello, Hagrid. Hello, headmaster. What brings you out of your office today?" The witch started to have her doubts. Dumbledore was very good-natured, but she didn't know how he'd take being shocked with electricity. And that wasn't the type of thing you wanted to test with your boss.

"I was walking with Hagrid, Charity. He wanted to show me the young thestrals."

"I see. Well, it's very nice to see you," Charity felt a little relieved. If Dumbledore wasn't planning to stay, then maybe he wouldn't need to use the closet.

Or at least that's what she thought before he started removing his cloak.

Quirenus twitched suddenly and nearly let out a yelp before Charity shot him a look. Hagrid looked concerned.

"Yer a'right there, Professor?" he asked.

Charity continued to look at her accomplice as he replied, "Y-yes. Yes, I-I'm f-f-f-fine."

Charity moved her focus to the moving headmaster. "Ahh…Headmaster, why are you taking that cloak to the closet?"

"I didn't want to return to my office to get my own cloak when Hagrid invited me so I borrowed one from here. I'm just returning it now," Dumbledore explained pleasantly.

Dumbledore grasped the doorknob firmly and opened it.

And nothing happened.

Charity wasn't sure whether she should feel relieved or disappointed.

She watched, biting her tongue, as Dumbledore returned the cloak and bade the two professors goodbye. Hagrid remembered he had roosters to feed and followed.

Once again the conspirators were alone.

"What could have gone wrong? It worked perfectly when I tested the mechanism before," she glanced at Quirenus, who only twitched in reply. She suspected that the DADA professor's twitching got the best of him and interfered with his wiring.

She sighed. It was too bad her only accomplice in muggle-dom was so afflicted, but there was nothing for it.

"I'll see if I can fix it," she picked up her pliers and approached the offending doorknob.

As soon as she touched it, another large shock went up her arms and knocked her off her feet. Having heard the sound, Dumbledore and Hagrid came rushing back and saw her sprawled on the floor.

"Professor Burbage, wha' happened to yeh?" Hagrid asked as he and Quirenus started to help her up off the ground.

"A backfire happened to me," she replied, face scrunched in pain.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly and drew up a chair for her.

"Will you be alright Charity or should Hagrid take you up to the hospital wing?" he asked gently.

"No, I'm fine headmaster," Charity answered, her pride more than a little wounded, "But if he could get me to my office I think I'll lay down for a while."

"If you would Hagrid?"

"A' course headmaster," and he carried the still smoking professor out the door.

"I suppose you were in on it too, Quirenus?"

Quirenus nodded, though it was hard to tell from the twitching, and said, "Y- yes head-headmaster. She wa-wanted help a-and-"

"I understand perfectly Quirenus," Dumbledore stopped him, "I am actually glad to see you getting back to your old interests. You haven't been yourself lately."


	5. Make Me A Match

Septima Vector narrowed her eyes at the stubborn fuzz that clung to the front of her black dress.

She sighed, took out her wand and muttered "_Evanesco._"

The fuzz disappeared. Satisfied, she stuck the wand back into her pocket and looked at the clock. 7:03. Aurora was three minutes late. Septima wished she'd hurry, standing here alone all dressed up would surely make someone waltz into the staff room and ask questions. Questions she'd rather not have to answer, at least not alone.

Not that she could blame Aurora for stalling. Neither witch was excited about the night's prospects.

After what seemed like an age, but was more like another minute, Aurora finally arrived. Wearing a brown dress accented with white and her long hair down, Aurora looked determined to give the night a shot.

"Ready when you are," she said to the waiting Professor Vector.

"I'll never be ready for this," Septima said as she screwed up her face, "This is all Charity's fault."

"She means well," Aurora reminded her companion, "And it's an excuse to go out to Hogsmeade without supervising anyone. And who knows? Maybe she actually did find the men of our dreams."

"Yes, maybe she did. And then maybe I'll sprouts wings and play keeper for Puddlemere United," Septima crossly replied.

"Well, then you'll get to meet that cute beater. I don't think he'd mind the wings," Aurora joked in return.

Septima rolled her eyes and smiled. If she had to do this, at least she was with Aurora. The woman could look at the bright side of a raging thestral.

"Shall we then?" Aurora asked.

"Let's get it over with." And with a sigh, Septima followed her friend out and to the road to Hogsmeade.

* * *

><p>"Never again. Never ever ever EVER again," Septima steamed as she raged into the staff room.<p>

"Come on, Sept, it wasn't that terrible," Aurora started to argue, settling down into an armchair.

"Aurora, how can you say that? He was a complete pig to you! Ugh! Everything he said was just dripping with smug," Septima fumed.

"Maybe he just has a bad first impression…"Aurora tried again.

"And maybe he has a bad last impression too! Did you hear him?" Septima donned a deep obnoxious voice, "I'm sure all you do at the school is very hard work, my dear, but you have no idea how much work it is for people who work all year long. I certainly wish I had time to stare at stars all night, UGH!"

"Yes, he did come off rather strong that way…" Aurora replied, "But what about your date? He seemed very nice."

"Puh! If nice is what you want to call it. He looked too wimpy to do anything without his friend's permission," she sneered.

"Maybe he was just quiet," Aurora smiled, "After all, not everyone is as talkative and opinionated as you, Sept."

"You're lucky I know you're kidding."

Aurora smiled, "But I am serious about Roman. It's possible he was shy with two lovely ladies like us at the table."

Septima opened her mouth to argue when a knock came at the staff room door.

"I wonder who that is," Aurora got up and answered the door, "Roman!"

For indeed it was. "Hello Aurora, is Septima in there with you? I thought I heard her voice...outside the castle"

"Yes, I'm here," Septima choked out.

"You left your cloak," he held it up to prove it, "I just wanted to make sure you got it. The gate let me in luckily."

"Er- yes! Thank you! I must have forgotten it. I didn't even notice it until now," Septima replied, taking her cloak from him.

"You're welcome. You must have been in such a rush to leave that you didn't think to grab it," Roman suggested.

"Oh, yes. It's just that-"

"Don't explain!" Roman quickly interrupted, "You had every right to. He's a complete bore. The only reason he came along is because he overheard Charity asking me to meet a friend of hers." He turned to Aurora, "Neither of us wanted to tell him no. Please understand."

"I do," Aurora smiled, "No harm done."

"Right. I'm glad," he shifted awkwardly now, "I guess I'll be going then. Have a nice night." He moved to leave.

Aurora poked Septima hard.

"Roman. Why don't I walk you out? So no one wonders why a stranger is walking the grounds," Septima said, rubbing her side.

Roman turned and smiled nervously, "That sounds fine."

"Alright then. Wait for me, Aurora, I'll be back soon."

Aurora nodded. "Take your time."

Septima led the way out while Roman began, "I haven't been back here in ages. Is the Whomping Willow still-" and then his voice faded.

Aurora smiled and made herself comfortable in her chair, hoping her friend took all the time she wanted.


End file.
